History
Apathy is a strange thing. Much like straight folk, it has a tendency to breed. There was something in the air early in 2007, and a bunch o Melbourne folk felt a bit disgruntled at the lack of exciting goings on, politically, socially, and sexually. So we got to talkin, as you do, and embarked upon a project of immense proportions. Camp Betty was crowned.
As our favourite wing-nutted royal once famously uttered to his then extra-marital affair, “I want to be your tampax.” How kinky are those royals, huh? HRH Betty II sure bred some fine stock. And we thank her greatly.
But seriously, scandalous (and very entertaining) affairs are not the only reason why we’ve chosen the celebration of the birth of our nation’s sovereign to get down and dirty into the nitty-gritty of the issues facing sex and gender in today’s barren and dry Australian landscape. We’re also trying to connect this event with a ‘lil bit of Melbourne history. And maybe break the drought while we’re at it.
Our story begins in 1963, when a small group of… well, men, Gay ones, decided to gather together and have a wee day in the country together to celebrate the Queen’s Birthday. A “camp” crowd of picnic-ers gathered at the Exhibition building (which, for the benefit of our interstate guests is a large grandiose building in some lovely Gardens near the city). After navigation maps, balloons, and ribbons were given out, a convoy of cars headed off to a secret bush location. Bearing in mind that homo sex was, at the time, a criminal act, these ‘secret’ bush locations were not only for dramatic effect. From these humble beginnings the Queen’s Birthday Picnic became a highlight on Melbourne’s queer calendar, and by the late seventies, the picnic was attracting thousands of revellers all rugged up for a chilly day in the bush outside of Melbourne.
The crowds were welcomed with mulled wine, a barbeque (a strictly chop and sausage affair it seems), and a carefully planned day of activities and entertainment. In amongst this revelry would be the customary ‘Royal Parade’, always with a dramatic entrance from the Royal party. This happened most notably in 1979 when a helicopter landed in the middle of the Yarra Glen footy field, much to the horror of the parents of the under 14s football team playing nearby. “Without wanting to appear prudish”, noted one observer, “they [the children] could have been in moral danger.”
The ensuing parade was always themed to what was happening at Buck palace at the time - a Christening, Charles and Di’s Wedding, a silver jubilee. The Queen would then inspect the picnic attendees, make a speech, present awards honouring certain members of the gay community, and perhaps most importantly, judge the scheduled activities. Hot competition ensued with the ‘skipping girl’ (skipping in high heels) race, KY tube relay, and the ‘champagne leg opener’ (ever tried to pass a bottle of champas from one set of thighs to another? Nope, no hands allowed.) The day would often culminate in a country barn dance before the crowds drunkenly made their way back to the city (we can thank historically lax drink driving laws for allowing this to happen).
The Queen’s Birthday Picnic tradition continued up until the early 1980s. Its demise curiously coincided with the period in which homosexuality was decriminalized in Victoria. There was no longer a need to keep the ‘secret bush locations’ and the picnics outgrew their original concept, morphing into the large massive commercial warehouse dance parties that still populate the Queen’s Birthday Weekend.
Smells of nostalgia a bit, doesn’t it? While we don’t want to spray a varnish over an event that was largely gay male dominated, infused with tones of misogyny, and criticised for being apolitical, we’re reviving this tradition and giving it a good tweak. We hope the events and activities of Camp Betty will not just be a one-off queerdo bonanza but something that will spark all our fires to think, dream, talk, do, and fuck a little better all year round.